My name is not sweetheart.

Right now I wish to rant about this guy who comes into my place of business at my real job (not the internship) and tries to hit on me. And of course, guys that *try* to hit on women are always BAD at it. Well, let me tell you, this guy is the definition of SKANK. He’s nasty, he’s creepy, he has bad hygiene, he has a wife that waits for him in the car each time, and he thinks it’s really cute to call me “sweetheart” in a very creepy manner. He seems to get very upset when he starts to see this obviously is getting nowhere and pissing me right off. HATE to be called sweetheart as much as Thelma & Louise hated being called beavers.

Oh, and he “just looooooves my red hair.” My hair is blonde, mind you.

Today he started with the sweetheart shit and when I did what I always do, walk away and try to ignore him, he started to get visibly upset. He went over and pretended to read the newspaper headlines and before leaving, he managed to thrown in his dislike for the Cleveland Indians shirt I was wearing, as if that was going to hurt me or something.

As I watched him walk away, I daydreamed of going Thelma & Louise on his ass. I mean, after all, I DO work at a gas station. My .. what big flames I could make! =)